


Always Use Pig's Blood

by Aris_Silverfin, ArtHistory



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Belly Kink, Consensual Sex, Dark Magic, Demon John Watson, Desire Demons (Dragon Age), Feeding, Feeding Kink, M/M, Magic and Science, Sexual Content, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 02:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15208568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aris_Silverfin/pseuds/Aris_Silverfin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/pseuds/ArtHistory
Summary: Sherlock Holmes, New London's best consulting detective, summons a Desire Demon to aid in the solving of a murder. Though with Mr. Holmes rampant kink, the demon takes a rather unconventional form.Light plot and massive kind, be prepared for miles of perfect Watson arse and rapid weight gain.





	Always Use Pig's Blood

The circle was drawn on charcoal, not pigs blood.

But only because Mrs. Hudson had asked politely.

A pentagram, but an unusual sort of kind. One meant to not only summon but contain, especially when summoning a spirit of desire.

Sherlock Holmes wanted to ask the dark creature some...questions.

A murder had occurred in New London’s latest magical brothel - An incident involving a fairy no less - and Sherlock needed information in regard to certain...fae physiologies...and Desire Spirits were knowledgeable of a lot...types.

Sherlock lit the candles.

He spoke the Latin.

He waited.

"You really ought to have used the pig's blood you know," said a voice in the darkness behind the detective. It seemed to shiver and swirl, then solidify into the form of a man with glowing blue eyes. But it didn't stop there. The dark shape expanded... it swelled.

The figure stepped forward without touching the floor, chubby toes not even disturbing the dust beneath them. The calves were thick, shapely. The thighs rolling as they rubbed together. A long semi-turgid cock lay nestled atop of them amidst bright golden hairs that then disappeared beneath the curve of a massively heavy belly with a deep navel. The belly shook and wobbled even as the figure came to a stop just a few inches from Sherlock, the tits atop it jiggling, pert brown nipples and golden flecks of hair taking shape. His hips were wide and plush, thick bitable love handles layered atop them generously, a wide fat arse rounding behind him.

His chins folded, round cheeks swam into view, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to almost glow remained fixed upon the detective as the rest of his features solidified. He was blonde. Tanned. and endlessly soft. But no part of him was angelic. His thin lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, can't say I mind... would be a shame if I didn't get to talk to a pretty thing like you," he purred.

Sherlock had meant to jump straight to the point.

Desire Spirits were clever.

Wanting.

The least amount of conversation one had with them - the better. If one wanted to hang onto one’s soul.

Sherlock had meant to ask his questions. Instead, the remarkably aroused detective breathed

"Holy shit."

The Demon of Desire grinned in a manner that meant he knew perfectly well what he was doing to the man before him. He hummed deep in his throat, the sound seeming to reverberate in his cavernous belly. He slid pudgy fingers down over his chest, circling and then lightly cupping a breast in his hand and giving it a squeeze. His other rubbed along the side of his great wide belly. He grabbed the bottom of it, his thumb poking into his navel. He gave it a shake and his entire body seemed to jiggle, to wobble, to invite Sherlock to sink in...

He stepped closer. A deep breath would have his belly brushing Sherlock's slim figure.

"You may call me... John. I think. " The demon mused. "Just because I like you."

Sherlock watched with lust. With need.

Several hundred tiny, naked Sherlocks were swarming an enormous, tanned John in his mind. Each of their Cupid's big lips worshipping another inch, another centimeter of the massive jiggling mound of man before him.

"John" Sherlock repeated, dumbly, feeling himself sink into the perfect sphere, his hands reaching out to squeeze at those enormous love handles, daring to sink his bony fingers into them, gripping and caressing.

"I'm...Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. I-I have a few questions about-"

Sherlock stuttered, trying to take a step back, trying to escape that heavenly feeling, hellishly tempting ocean of caramel cream

John purred, groaning softly as the man folded into him, as if his touch were the most perfect thing in existence. He pressed his soft plush pillow of a belly into Sherlock, leaning but not following as Sherlock stepped back. He cocked his head slightly, his triple chin folding and squashing under his jaw.

"Good to meet you, Sherlock Holmes. Questions? Questions are so..." He sighed, his belly expanding, blowing outwards a bit further, almost perfectly spherical, “... tedious. Get in the way of other things... why not just enjoy... the moment." He was shorter than Sherlock but suddenly his lips were only a whisper from the human's shapely mouth.

Sherlocks lips tingled, as if the kiss was happening. His fingers were lost in John's sandy hair, teeth nibbling playfully at the man's perfectly round, soft jawline. Biting those fatty chins.

Would he like that? He'd probably giggle. Smile.

Sherlock wanted him to smile. To be happy. To feel nothing but pure bliss at all times. He'd give John anything, his money, his house, his-

Sherlock shook his head quickly, whining as John's belly expanded out further.

"I..." Sherlock started

"I...gods" He breathed, swallowing hard.

"I do not relinquish myself to you fully until all my questions are answered. Body, yes. Soul, no. Do we have a deal?" He asked, last of his willpower desperately holding on as no less than 200 tiny Sherlocks worshipped the great, wide ass of the creature before him.

John tilted his head.

"Straight to business. Fair enough. Smart one, aren't you? OR maybe..." he inhaled again, and seemed to expand before Sherlock's very eyes, new rolls folding at his sides, his belly rounding and sinking lower, navel deepening. "Maybe I'm just not big enough for you?" he said, sounding sad, rubbing both hands over his gargantuan gut.

"How many questions? Shall we make an amendment to your deal? For each question, you will owe me one course of a meal. I do hope you have enough to feed me, enough questions to give me a feast. And then yes. I will gladly take your body..." His eyes roved the mortal's hungrily, eyes shining blue.

Sherlocks mouth fell open as the perfect being before him got...well even more perfect.

His hands reached out without thinking to grab at and squeeze the man's new swirls of sweet caramel

"No! John! Y-You're perfect! Lovely! I love-"

Sherlock stepped back, hurriedly, blushing madly

"Deal." He said, holding out his slim hand to shake

The desire demon smirked. More deals could be made in future. But this one was... interesting. Different.

He held out a podgy hand and took Sherlock's slim fingers in his soft ones. He Pulled the other man closer, causing him to crash into his belly.

"Go on then. Ask. I'm incredibly... hungry," he purred.

Sherlock gasped, then whimpered as he became flush with John's massive middle, burying his head into the crooked of the man's neck with a groan, hurriedly straightening, stopping himself from kissing the man's shoulder.

"I...I need information on the sexual physiology of Winter Fae. Male Winter Fae specifically. I've been told they have...two..." Sherlock blushingly gestured lower, swallowing, "But the community itself refuses to release data on mating rituals or sexual appetites.”

“I...those aren't questions." He blushed, hands drifting to John's massive love handles, squeezing them gently, lovingly, with nothing short of worship.

"Do...do Winter Fae have two cocks?" He flushed, wondering what it might feel like to rub his pale cheek against John's round, chubby one

The demon snorted. "Ah good. That's the appetizer for me at least. Good boy," he purred, rubbing his belly further into Sherlock, his own cock hardening and now pressing against Sherlock's thigh.

"No. They've got a single cock, but it's a two-pronged one. Food. Then ask your next question," John murmured, slipping a finger along Sherlock's prominent cheekbone. "Your body will be mine. And your questions will be ended when I'm full. Lucky for you. I'm quite bottomless." He chuckled and slapped his gut. It rippled.

Sherlock shivered.

"I...good to know. Kitchen is...it's this way." Sherlock blushed, stumbling for the kitchen.

He pressed a few buttons on his Food-O-Matic, and out came a small plate of bruschetta, the redness of the tomatoes making each toasted crostini look like it was covered in tiny hearts

John hummed, almost growled, and fell upon the food with a voracious hunger. The noises he made as he stuffed down the bruschetta were indecent, as if he were fucking rather than eating. He moaned and groaned, grunting, his cheeks bulging as he stuffed in more and more. He sucked his fingers clean lewdly and turned shining eyes onto Sherlock. "Next. Question." he purred, taking two steps and crushing Sherlock up against the kitchen counter with his belly. This was fun. and the genitalia of fae wasn't exactly expensive information. He was getting quite the deal.

Sherlock gasped.

His arms reached around John as much as they could, fondling the man's back in sheer, animalistic desperation.

"Fuck! Oh!" He moaned, squirming to escape, not really wanting to

He found John's glowing blue eyes

"I...I-I need information on the sexual habits of-

“What are the sexual fetishes of Archibald Icemoon and Yzram Frozentundra?" He asked, trying to focus on the victims of his case instead of the pure pleasure of John's lard flowing over him

"Another caveat... you cum... and the deal is off. Your flesh is little use to me if you're already spent," John growled, leaning into Sherlock further and breathing in the human's scent at his neck, his thick fingers twisting into those soft curls.

"Ooh... personal information that. I have met both. lucky you. Though this answer will require two courses."

John breathed in and let his breath flow out, humming as he felt the man's desire continuing to grow. He shook his hips, love handles jiggling in Sherlock’s hands.

"Tame. Boring. Sensory deprivation. Archie is the biggest sub I've ever found. He was licking the floor before I even manifested fully. Yzram. A bit of a masochist, sadist in a soft bright wrapper. "

Sherlock nodded eagerly.

That was going to be...hard.

He whined as John jiggled, trying to focus on the case.

"That...makes sense. In a way. Yzram was drowned in the deprivation chamber, whip marks across his back. But...

The whip was found with Archie's fingerprints, and the elf dominatrix that runs the chamber insisted Archie was a violent dom. A man of intense submission would never use a whip...would he?" Sherlock asked, swallowing hard as he leaned over to the Food O Matic, typing without being free from John's lardy prison. An entire pizza popped out, covered with sausage, onion, and ham. Next to it was a seafood bounty, clams and mussels. Fried calamari and lobster. All dripping with butter and fat.

He arched his back, biting his lip to keep from combusting with arousal.

John purred eagerly, turning around. He pinned Sherlock with his wide round arse, squashing it into the detective's groin.

He didn't answer. He gorged. He ate and ate, devouring each slice in a single bite, his belly gurgling as it bowed out further.

"Not a question I can answer with certainty," the bloated demon mumbled, now shoveling down seafood. His lips and fingers glistened with fat. He belched.

"A guess suffice? Crime of passion? Self defense? Forgotten safeword or framed?"

He wriggled his fat arse. "Another course?"

Sherlocks hands moved on their own. They dug into John's massive, perfect ass with nothing short of need.

"I...fuck. Yes. I've almost got it." Sherlock grunted, his Food O Magic popping out a tower of steak kebabs

"Does" he panted, falling forward onto the ocean of John's back, kissing at johns padded shoulders, burying his nose into the fat-softened duvet of John's spine.

"Did the dominatrix Madame DaVein ever call for a scenario with a Desire Demon in which she...in which she kills..." Sherlock asked, his hands slipping to the sides of John's belly, kneading the dough there lovingly.

John growled happily, shaking his arse, his hips jiggling, love handles wobbling, tits dancing as he tucked into more food greedily.

He glutted, then belched enormously. His belly swung beneath him like a pendulum.

"She had. I declined. Desire requires consent by all parties. Only a partner willing to die could be killed. Self-preservation is strong in most creatures."

Sherlock grinned.

His willpower regained for a split second he shimmied until he could reach his phone, texting Lestrade to push for a confession on the Dominatrix

He settled back against the counter, rubbing both sides of John's massive area happily, purring

He called up a cheesecake, sliding it to the flabby spirit

John growled and spun around, pressing his tits and belly at the man. His belly squashed to either side.

"Haven't I earned dessert? Hmm? Something sweet to fill me out? Or will you just keep. Asking. Questions." He growled, kissing along the detective's neck.

Sherlock panted, whining

"A-As many sweets as you want! Whatever you want! C-Case done." Sherlock moaned, baring his neck to the massive man

He just set the Food-O-Magic to "Sweet", and soon the kitchen counter was filling not with chocolate chips cookies, warm and gooey with dark chocolate chips. Sweet red velvet cream cheese, caloric enough to ruin the abs of any speedo modeling lifeguard. Ice cream cake. Oreo cookies. Raspberry pie.

Sherlock clung to John with a hunger, grabbing handfuls anywhere he could, crying out the spirit’s name. 

John growled and moaned. He fell upon Sherlock with hunger and lust, finally kissing him. Taking him.

"You.... you are truly starved. How delicious," the demon purred, his hands wandering his new subject's form. "So thin."

He pulled a cake over and tore it in half, feeding himself with one hand and proffering the other to Sherlock's lips.

"Go on. Enjoy. Give in. To me. To yourself."

Sherlock gave in.

And it felt like Heaven.

He fills his mouth with the cake. Fills his hands with warm, fat folds of rich caramel lard.

He's finished the cake faster than he thought possible, and suddenly his lips are sucking creamy frosting from John's fingers, moaning as his skeletal, hollow middle swells flat, lines of muscle no longer defined, or even existent, his lower belly smooth and round as the sheet cake the spirit feeds him

John moans, almost bellowing with glee, with pleasure, with pure desire and want.

"Gorgeous, yes! Fuck yes! Oooooh Sherlock, Sherlock you prince among men," John groaned, feeding them both, his cock hard and slick with precum between their bloated bellies.

"Perfect," he snarled, his hands cupping Sherlock's belly, dipping into his waistband.

"More. More. More for the both of us! Fuck, yes!"

He rocked his hips, his flab moving in waves, crashing into the human. His mouth found those perfect plush lips. He kissed hard, desperately, moaning at the decadence he tasted on him. The hunger and desire feeding him further.

"Mmmmph, fuck!" He was shaking.

He never let his victims affect him like this but oh- Oh-

Sherlock ate with a hunger matched only by the old gods when they feasted.

He glutted and gorged, his hands hungrily gripping John's belly, mouth kissing roughly back to John's between toes of rich cheesecake, warm pie

"Fuck! Fuck yes! John you'll look tiny by the time I'm done gorging, we'll be the fattest men in New London! In the world!" He growled, belly snapping open his trousers, the buttons of his shirt, flooding it against John's enormous, caramel mountain. His bony chest swelled to budding breasts, then full, fat tits, short falling to the floor in tatters around him

His arse swelled and spread against the countertop. Nonexistent, flat bone becoming two softballs, then melons, then full blown, bubbly spheres of lard that wobbled and shook against the marble of 221b, pushing both men away from the counter as those cheeks rose up and over in, beach ball of an area indented by the hard, impassive stone.

His sim cock was all the remained of his former body, the dark swirls of his crotch now springing from padded softness, cock pushed outwards by snogging thighs which curved to meaty calves. His fine socks and leather shoes grew tight, Sherlock kicking them off to give room to the newfound chub of his toes, fingers plump sausages as the sunk into John's love handles, two mountainous guts kissing with almost equal fervor as the man and spirit who owned them

"Magnificent. Oh fuck, I knew you were special, that you were different, that you were the very epitome of want."

John groaned and rutted, crying out the man's name as he came against his new fattened form. He whined and moaned, shuddering, pressing sweet sticky kisses to the man's burgeoning breasts, his hands probing and admiring the beautiful bounty of his new belly.

"Perfect," he breathed, spent, heady with pleasure, drunk and filled on the other man's appetites.

"Oh, Sherlock Holmes, you are a marvel."

He kissed him again.

Sherlock kissed back with equal hunger.

He grinned, grabbing the ocean of vanilla that was his gut with both hands. He wobbled it against John's own caramel Dream, purring with nothing short of lust.

"John, you did this to me. Made me so fat. So round. Made me *yours*" He  purred, leaning forward and sinking his teeth into John's neck.

"And you are mine*" Sherlock growled, roughly spinning John around, giving the man's massive arse a loud *SLAP*

He hoisted his gut, dropping it onto the enormous man's back, teasing his cock between the spirits flabby cheeks.

John gasped, grunted, then moaned, grinning. "As you say," he purred, rubbing his fat arse into that long slim cock.

"Cum then. Mark me if I am yours. You are mine, Sherlock Holmes. Crafted in my perfect image. Cum."

Sherlock came with a cry.

His entire body felt like it had caught fire. Like it had been struck by lightning. He was drowning in pleasure. Being reborn a fresh, new creature.

He collapsed for a moment onto his massive - or, now, equally sized - lover, moaning happily, kissing at the man's flabby shoulders

John purred, drawing flabby arms around his prize. He kissed him sweetly.

"My Sherlock Holmes. I think I will rather like being your John. Shall I take your last name? Or come up with my own. I rather think I would like to stay." He grinned. "As long as you can feed us both."

Sherlock grinned, giddy with affection

He kissed John's cheeks, his chins, nibbling up his soft jawline

"John is lovely. What about Hogson? Or Potson?" He offered, sliding a hand to John's gut, jiggling the round, fatty thing, his thumb daring to slip into the blondes navel

The demon snorted.

"Your What-son? Watson. Yes that will do. I can't have everyone knowing how special our bond is. For we are bonded now, Sherlock Holmes. From this moment onward. "

His blue eyes glowed bright again, then dimmed and darkened to a rich blue. The demon's features became less harsh and otherworldly, though no less handsome or familiar. He belched, and chuckled, his rosy cheeks causing his eyes to crinkle.

He could be human. For a little while with this man.

It was going to be fun.


End file.
